you’re not involved, Hardin?” Luther tipped up his bottle.
“Like I got time to rustle cattle. And this is High Cotton. What happened to our sleepy little town?”
“It’s the economy,” Frank said. “Everybody needs money. I was down at the general store picking up barbed wire and Nell said a special ranger for the Texas and Southwestern Cattle Raisers Association is here talking to Judd. Things will get lively now. Cops will be all over the place.”
Lucky pretended to wipe the counter, listening with both ears, but there were people chattering in the background and it was hard to hear everything.
“Boys, I’ve enjoyed talking to you, but the big city awaits.” Kid pushed away from the counter. “Bubba Joe, give the guys another round on me.”
“You’re a pretty decent guy.” Melvin reached for a bottle. “But don’t mess with us again.”
Kid nodded and walked toward Lucky, stopping at her side. “I’m going to find out what you’re up to,” he whispered. His breath fanned her cheek and her knees wobbled. Damn him!
Weaving his way through the crowd, he left with a smug expression on his face.
Now she knew what he was doing here—screwing up her life.
CHAPTER EIGHT
K ID DROVE TO A UNT E TTA’S and ate supper. Afterward, he and Uncle Ru watched a rodeo on TV. Soon Ru fell asleep, snoring in his chair. His aunt dozed on and off.
He got up and whispered, “Aunt Etta, I’m leaving, but I’ll be back later.”
“Oh.” She blinked. “The door will be open.”
He went back to The Beer Joint, but he didn’t go in. He watched and waited, wanting to make sure Lucky was okay. When the patrons started coming out, he parked in a ditch. The cowboys left along with the others. Still, he didn’t move until he saw Lucky and Bubba Joe come through the door. He followed from a distance until she turned down the Littlefield lane.
On his way from Houston, he’d thought about what Cadde had said. If he didn’t care about Lucky, Kid needed to get out of her life. If he did…that was the stumbling block. He wasn’t sure what he felt. He only knew she was into something dangerous and he had to keep her safe. He hadn’t been there for her years ago, but he would be there for her now.
He planned to win her over with kindness, but once he saw the black Dodge outside The Joint he knew that wasn’t going to work. No way was he walking awayand leaving her to face those yahoos. And to top off the evening, Luther had walked in. Nothing had gone his way. With a lot of kissing unbelievably ugly butts, he’d finagled himself out of a touchy situation.
All while Lucky was glaring at him.
He’d picked up on something, though. Lucky was interested in the two-bit cowboys for some reason. On the nights he’d been watching her, Bubba Joe always left with her. That meant she had to have asked Bubba to leave the night the cowboys waited for her. She’d wanted to talk to them. Why? That boggled his mind.
And then there was cattle rustling. Somehow he felt it was all tied together. But what did Lucky have to do with stealing cattle in the middle of the night? It didn’t make sense.
He turned off his lights and drove into the Littlefield lane. He stopped the truck halfway to the house. Parking on the road wasn’t a good idea. Due to the rustling, the sheriff, the constable and the ranger were checking all roads he was sure, and he didn’t want Lucky to know he was here.
Opening the console, he pulled out a baseball. On it was written Hardin with a Magic Marker. He’d bought it in Houston earlier. He slipped out of the truck quickly, trying to minimize the brightness of the interior light. The night was warm and peaceful as he strolled toward the cemetery. A cow bellowed in the distance, crickets chirped, leaves rustled—all normal country sounds.
The house was in darkness as he made his way tothe chain-link fence. Once inside, he knelt by his son’s grave.
“Hey, buddy, it’s your dad.” The moment
“Like I got time to rustle cattle. And this is High Cotton. What happened to our sleepy little town?”
“It’s the economy,” Frank said. “Everybody needs money. I was down at the general store picking up barbed wire and Nell said a special ranger for the Texas and Southwestern Cattle Raisers Association is here talking to Judd. Things will get lively now. Cops will be all over the place.”
Lucky pretended to wipe the counter, listening with both ears, but there were people chattering in the background and it was hard to hear everything.
“Boys, I’ve enjoyed talking to you, but the big city awaits.” Kid pushed away from the counter. “Bubba Joe, give the guys another round on me.”
“You’re a pretty decent guy.” Melvin reached for a bottle. “But don’t mess with us again.”
Kid nodded and walked toward Lucky, stopping at her side. “I’m going to find out what you’re up to,” he whispered. His breath fanned her cheek and her knees wobbled. Damn him!
Weaving his way through the crowd, he left with a smug expression on his face.
Now she knew what he was doing here—screwing up her life.
CHAPTER EIGHT
K ID DROVE TO A UNT E TTA’S and ate supper. Afterward, he and Uncle Ru watched a rodeo on TV. Soon Ru fell asleep, snoring in his chair. His aunt dozed on and off.
He got up and whispered, “Aunt Etta, I’m leaving, but I’ll be back later.”
“Oh.” She blinked. “The door will be open.”
He went back to The Beer Joint, but he didn’t go in. He watched and waited, wanting to make sure Lucky was okay. When the patrons started coming out, he parked in a ditch. The cowboys left along with the others. Still, he didn’t move until he saw Lucky and Bubba Joe come through the door. He followed from a distance until she turned down the Littlefield lane.
On his way from Houston, he’d thought about what Cadde had said. If he didn’t care about Lucky, Kid needed to get out of her life. If he did…that was the stumbling block. He wasn’t sure what he felt. He only knew she was into something dangerous and he had to keep her safe. He hadn’t been there for her years ago, but he would be there for her now.
He planned to win her over with kindness, but once he saw the black Dodge outside The Joint he knew that wasn’t going to work. No way was he walking awayand leaving her to face those yahoos. And to top off the evening, Luther had walked in. Nothing had gone his way. With a lot of kissing unbelievably ugly butts, he’d finagled himself out of a touchy situation.
All while Lucky was glaring at him.
He’d picked up on something, though. Lucky was interested in the two-bit cowboys for some reason. On the nights he’d been watching her, Bubba Joe always left with her. That meant she had to have asked Bubba to leave the night the cowboys waited for her. She’d wanted to talk to them. Why? That boggled his mind.
And then there was cattle rustling. Somehow he felt it was all tied together. But what did Lucky have to do with stealing cattle in the middle of the night? It didn’t make sense.
He turned off his lights and drove into the Littlefield lane. He stopped the truck halfway to the house. Parking on the road wasn’t a good idea. Due to the rustling, the sheriff, the constable and the ranger were checking all roads he was sure, and he didn’t want Lucky to know he was here.
Opening the console, he pulled out a baseball. On it was written Hardin with a Magic Marker. He’d bought it in Houston earlier. He slipped out of the truck quickly, trying to minimize the brightness of the interior light. The night was warm and peaceful as he strolled toward the cemetery. A cow bellowed in the distance, crickets chirped, leaves rustled—all normal country sounds.
The house was in darkness as he made his way tothe chain-link fence. Once inside, he knelt by his son’s grave.
“Hey, buddy, it’s your dad.” The moment
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